Shifting Fates - The General
by greysider
Summary: Commander Alastair Hughes is thrust into the Clone Wars when the Defense Force of his native planet of Ansion is deployed alongside the Grand Army of the Republic. Through the battles, the conflicts, the struggles, and the deceptions, can one man change the course of history? Will the power of the Force bring balance to the galaxy, or will a very different kind of balance rule?
1. Introduction

**INTRODUCTION**

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 **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. All other concepts and ideas from other books or stories belong to their respective authors. No copyright infringement is intended**.

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 **9:00 AM**

 **Day 9; 2** **nd** **Standard Galactic Month of the Year 22 BBY**

 **Command Bridge; Battleship** _ **Endeavor**_

 **Space of the planet Ansion; Mid Rim**

Everybody was moving around in anticipation.

Staff aides walked around the bridge, heading as quickly as possible to wherever they needed to be.

Lieutenants were looking over their data pads, reading over their orders for the tenth or so time.

Sergeants were ensuring that everything on the ship was in perfect condition.

Engineers were triple checking the engine and all the other ship systems.

The volunteer infantry battalion on the ship was settling into their new quarters.

The naval petty and warrant officer were all at their system stations, their hands drenched in the sweat of stress.

In the middle of the bridge stood one man. He was frozen still. Not in fear, but in total and complete concentration. As people bustled around him and spoke to each other in fast pastes, they all acknowledged his presence, but non dared to interrupt him.

He wore the standard uniform for a naval commander. He had dark blue pants and suit vest. His upper left breast area should have been covered with a dozen or so medals and awards, but the Commander l had never felt particularly inclined towards them. His officer hat was in the captain's cabin, another intricacy he preferred to do without.

As of his doctor's appointment less than a week and half ago, he measured six feet and three inches, an around average height for Ansion males. He had white skin and blue eyes. His hair was short and black, parted towards the left from the right of his head.

His hands were clasped together behind his back, and his posture straight and tall.

He was Commander Alastair Hughes of the Grand Army of the Republic.

Hughes' face betrayed no sense of emotion as he stared straight into the dark expanse of space in the distance. His blue eyes didn't blink and his fingers didn't twitch. Pitch black and all consuming, space was the frontier that would forever hold his fascination. The magnificence of its greatness, its secrets, and its power never failed to grasp his attention.

Beneath him lay his homework of Ansion, a beautiful planet with green land masses and blue waters. The planet was located in the outer rim near the end of the Dorinian trade route that ran from Coruscant itself out to Namadi.

Excluding the powerful individual core worlds, Ansion was one of the most important systems in the galaxy. It had a wealthy and diverse economy. It lay at a critical juncture of trade routes and activity in the north west of the Galaxy. It had a large population and a growing economy.

Comparatively to other planets in the area, Ansion by far had the best Defense Force, and its military academies could match those on Carida, the very center of military education in the galaxy. The center of its influence, however, was its well organized government bureaucracy and massive surveillance apparatus that had been built up over the past century in response to multiple insurgencies.

Hughes was an Ansion native of 36 years old. His father had been killed in a pirate raid when he had been all but eight years old back in 50 BBY. His mother had died in his teenage years, at age 16, in 42 BBY. She had been the victim of a terminal disease released by the biological attack of an insurgent militia. She had died in his arms at the hospital as he begged her to stay with him.

Two weeks after her death, Hughes had shot his first gun. Living year round in his high school's dorm room had given birth to his militaristic views and philosophy. When he was 17, he joined a local militia group and began his informal military training while still in school. At 19, during the high water mark of the insurgency by the Ansion Liberation Front, Hughes had joined the fight first hand.

While the Ansion government was powerful and its security forces well-armed and organized, it was not easy to fight against a terrorist group. Nativist sentiment had been entrenched in regions of Ansion for centuries, and it was always the same issues that brought them into rebellion. Over taxation, government bureaucracy, "illegal" government surveillance" . . .

The local military had had a difficult time fighting against a well armed and extremely motivated resistance force that blended into the population. The militia Hughes had joined, the Ansion Nationalist Force, worked alongside government security forces the clear out the terrorists from the region one distrcit at a time.

On the 4th day of the 7th Standard Galactic Month of the year 39 BBY, he had killed his first human. It would not be his last.

Through the mass surveillance campaign of the government intelligence services and the methodical elimination of the terrorist cells, the Ansion Liberation Front was wiped off the face of the planet by 38 BBY. During that time, Hughes had personally killed 16 people. He would never regret it.

Hughes had graduated the Vorlus Military Academy at 25 and had enlisted in the Ansion Defense Forces the day after. He was immediately assigned to the naval corps. The Pirate War had begun.

Since 34 BBY, pirate and space raiding activity had seen a surge around Ansion space. Merchant ships were burned, supplies looted, passengers kidnapped. Being the only capable military force in the surrounding space region, Ansion had had to take up the brunt of the fight. In 33 BBY, a cabal of rapid pirate leaders had gotten unusually confident. They had united to wage an all out war against Ansion. The reasons were never discoverd. The fighting gave him plenty of experience in space combat. It also provided for rapid promotions.

Ansion, finally acknowledging the very real threats of the pirates, set about upgrading and reorganizing their entire Defense Force in 29 BBY. Through pure luck alone, Hughes had been tapped to be a member of the Committee to Restructure and Reform the Navy. Through Hughes' brilliant analysis of the failures of the naval forces and his recommendations on how the Defense Force could effectively win the pirating war, he had gained national attention.

On the 9th month of 30 BBY, the combined pirate fleet lay siege to Ansion, a terrible event known forever in the planet's history as the "Siege of Terror". Cut off from any foreign supplies for half a year, millions died of starvation and medical diseases. In order to maintain order, the military had taken over total control of the planet and all its resources.

Seeking to restore some moral to the fledging naval force, the entire naval force was reorganized. Hughes was made a captain of his own ship.

For the next year, the naval fleet fought tooth and nail against the pirate menace. From the bridge of the Destroyer _Dauntless_ , Hughes had waged a total war against the pirate menace. With the use of ambush surprise attacks involving land based ant-ship canons, the torture and _advanced interrogation_ of many captives, and new innovative ship combat maneuvers, the pirate forces were decimated and finally expulsed from the Ansion system in early 28 BBY.

By that time, Hughes had gained a massive popularity throughout the planet. He was seen as the rising new star of the Ansion navy. Already an adept politically minded person, Hughes succeeding in replacing much of the Military High Command with his personal allies and overhauling the entirety of the Defense Force. All the while, he promised Ansion that they would never been as vulnerable and weak as they had been during the "Siege of Terror". At the back of his mind, he would never forget that the Galactic Republic had refused Ansion's desperate pleas for help and assistance.

In the aftermath of the Pirate War of 33 BBY, his allies on the High Command made him Full General of the Ansion Defense Forces. He was practically the supreme commander of the military, as small as it was.

At that point, though, galactic affairs caught up to Ansion and with it Hughes.

With more and more planets succeeding from the Galactic Republic and violence growing without stop in all regions of the Galaxy, war seemed imminent. Attempting to stay ahead of military armament from nearly every planet, Ansion continued its programs to upgrade and enlarge its Defense Forces. Hughes had been on his feet and working up to his head for the last year trying to make sure that Ansion would be able to survive if war did indeed break out.

Six days ago, the Galactic Separatist War, as termed by historians, had begun with the grand battle of Geonosis. The Emergency Powers Act had given the Supreme Chancellor, Sheev Palpatine, the power to create a Republic Army and gave him supreme commander status over it. To the deep consternation of Hughes and many others, the Republic had deployed a 250,000-man clone army on Geonosis from nowhere. Neither Hughes nor anybody else had any idea of where the army had come from nor what exactly it was.

In addition, the Senate had passed another Constitutional Amendment allowing them to attach Planetary System Defense Forces to the Grand Army of the Republic, as it was called. The Ansion Defense Force had been one of the first to be called into service. While Hughes was all in favor of centralizing the war effort, he was still troubled and suspicious of the nature of the Republic's clone army.

As the Ansion Fleet was incorporated into the greater structure of the Grand Army of the Republic, he had received his commission as Commander.

No matter, he had received his official orders yesterday from Republic Military High Command on Coruscant.

" _Travel to Dorin to combine forces with the Republic Task Force "Golden Storm" under Jedi General Coleman Trebor. Proceed under his command to the system of Vicondor to engage Separatist forces in the region."_

The Jedi. Hughes was very concerned about their involvement in the war. He didn't like it. Not one bit. Even worse, his force was going to be under the command of one. He hated it! Ansion's strong and shining light was going to be put under the command of one of those . . . Arhgggg! He just hated it!

There was nothing he could do though.

He would fulfill his duties as a military officer and commander of the Ansion Defense Force no matter his personal views.

Soon, he would be leaving Ansion. Not for the first time for sure, he had traveled across the galaxy during his short life. It was the first time, however, that he would be leaving it at the head of his home world's military forces. He too, like most of the officers on the bridge, was fighting his own civil war of suspicion, concern, and uncertainty.

He would be leaving behind his wife Evangeline, a government prosecutor who worked in the Justice Department. Before he had joined up with the fleet, she had told him to not have any regrets and to head forwards with standing strong with a high head. He would no, doubt, but that didn't make him any more sure about the whole affair.

"Lieutenant Kensworth," he spoke out to no one in particular. His voice was steady and firm, carrying all around the large bridge even as others were all talking and whispering to each other.

Immediately, a man with a square face and tamed but curly red hair walked up to the commodore and stood firmly besides him, waiting for further directions.

"Yes sir," he asked. Unlike Hughes, one could not help but notice the slightest of hitches in the question, the rush of adventure and uncertainty leaking through.

"Is the Ansion Expedition Fleet ready to depart?"

Kensworth risked a look over his shoulder. He was met with the stare of every single staff and officer on the bridge. Their looks conveyed their deep suspense and expectancy. Some of them wore big confident smiles, others looked less than certain of their mission.

Putting all of that behind him, Kensworth turned to address his commanding officer, who was still staring deep into space.

"Sir . . . The AEF is all set and combat ready."

For the first time in a while, Kensworth thought he saw a spark of something in Hughes mesmerizing blue eyes. He didn't know what it was, but it was something. And he would give anything to find out what it was at a moment like this.

"Then by all means lieutenant, let us proceed to Dorin."

A smile lit itself up on Kensworth's face. Just to add a bit to the drama for the sake of all the cautious petty officers staring on from their stations, he confirmed their orders.

"Sir?"

Hughes turned directly towards to face him, just the smallest inkling of an amused smile creeping its way onto his face. Then with a broad motion, his eyes circled the bridge methodically. He met the eye of every single officer without blinking once, coming back to focus solely on Kensworth.

"Activate the hyperdrive lieutenant. Let's make Ansion proud."

It was all that was needed. At once, the dozens of officers jumped back into motion, pushing the buttons on their screens and preparing to leave the system.

Hughes, meanwhile, had returned to the object of his everlasting fascination. With a reflective glow on his face, the view from the bridge was covered by the radiant bright blue light of energy. The next moment, the Endeavor was speeding through the black expanse of space towards the battlefield.

The Galactic Separatist War had begun in earnest, and Alastair Hughes would not rest until he saw it through.

For Ansion.

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 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello all!**

 **Welcome to my first Star Wars story,** **Shifting Fates!** **This first part of it is titled "The General".**

 **This story is centered around the oc character introduced above named Alastair Hughes. He is a character completely of my own creation, and is not based off of any other fanfiction oc character.**

 **It begins with the opening of the Clone Wars, and will progress through the Star Wars extended universe past the destruction of the 2** **nd** **Death Star.**

 **I try to revise my chapters as well as I can but my grammar sense is not always spot on. If you see any mistakes, please just let me know and I'll correct it.**

 **This introduction, like all of my story introductions, is short and is only meant to tease the readers while giving a small view into the story at large. Later chapters will be much longer.**

 **Also, as with my other stories, the narrative will be combined with experts of various news articles and historical books. I feel like this adds some diversity to the writing and makes it more interesting.**

 **If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask.**

 **Thank you for favorites, follows, reviews, and just reading the story. It encourages me to write more and faster.**

 **See you next time,**

 **Greysider**


	2. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

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 **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. All other concepts and ideas from other books or stories belong to their respective authors. No copyright infringement is intended**.

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 **Chapter Summary:**

 **The Ansion Expeditionary Fleet arrives at the Dorin system and Commander Admiral Hughes must meet his new commanding general. However, the general surprises everybody with his attitude towards the war, forcing Hughes to make a risky move in response.**

 **Additional Content:** **"** _ **Birth of the Confederacy"**_

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 **0300 Hours**

 **Day 10; 2** **nd** **Standard Galactic Month of the Year 22 BBY**

 **Captain's Office; Battleship** _ **Endeavor**_

 **Dorinian Hyperspace Lane; Mid-Rim**

"Hughes,"

Hughes looked up from the desktop screen in front of him at his chief of staff. He was in his private quarters which were located just below the bridge near the other staff officer's cabins. His office was Spartan, but perfectly portrayed the image he had curried and maintained for years.

His desk was simple and small, albeit made out of Kashyyken wood. To be fair, Kashyyken wood was perhaps one of the most expensive in the galaxy. The beautiful natural curves and color patterns that defined it were equally popular amongst elite collectors and wealthy artists.

On the top of the desk was one long screen that stretched the span of Hughes' vision looking forwards. Technology, specifically in communication and digital machines, was certainly not too shabby. The deskop system had been built into the desk itself, as was standard now for most computers of similar design.

To his right were a large storage space of cabinets. Inside them were hundreds upon hundreds of data disks. Some of them were technical and strategic information. Some of them consisted of his life journal. Many others consisted of his personal reflections on events, peoples, and philosophy.

One might wonder why, in a galaxy which such advanced technology as this, why anyone would need data disks? That would indeed be an appropriate question to ask.

The reason was in fact just as simple as the basis of the question: technology. Once put up on the holonet, no matter for which server or station, nothing was safe. There was no true way to hide or make private anything on the galactic web, even behind the strictest server and online security. Even secure military systems like the one on his desk and the ones that were on were constantly vulnerable to infiltration and subversion.

In his case though, that was not the real danger. Ansion had some of the most powerful intelligence and surveillance forces in the world. Their military systems were top-notch and nearly impervious to any enemy cyberattack. It was a great advantage for Ansion forces, but it would make Hughes' private life just a little difficult.

Don't get him wrong, he was all in support of total state surveillance and intel gathering, most in the military were. However, there was definitely some information in the disks that would, if read and analyzed by the Ansion intel agencies, prove rather damaging to him.

Part of the reason that Hughes knew this was because he had worked in the intel services for a couple years before joining the navy. He had been the commander of one of many surveillance units at the Internal Security Bureau. The Bureau ensured the protection of the Ansion political system from threats both foreign and domestic.

With the data disks, he could store information in a, yes, old and inefficient system, but they would be protected from the reach of his own government. Hughes was a master of surveillance and intelligence, and he always needed to stay one step ahead of it.

In the room two floors behind him in fact was the large office of the ship's complement of agents from the Military CyberCommand. These were the agents that were in charge of protecting the ship against cyber-attacks and viruses. Their other, not so secret, purpose was to manage the ship's internal surveillance network. In simple terms, they were spying on everybody on board. They recorded and surfed every single conversation and action of every single person whether they be him, the Commander, or the mess hall janitor.

The presence of these agents was normal though, every Ansion naval vessel had them. What was not normal, however, was for the captain of the ship to have a system that allowed them to spy on the agents that were spying on the ship's crew. If that sounded complicated, don't worry, even Hughes agreed it was.

In the room right next to his was a massive computer system that allowed Hughes to invisibly access the surveillance of the MID unit downstairs. He though it only fair. They were spying on him, so he should also be able to spy on them. Not only though did it open up a backdoor to this ship's surveillance unit, it opened up a back door to _every_ single surveillance unit to _every_ ship in the force. It was a nice advantage. As Hughes said, he was always on top of surveillance.

In another room next to his was his staff. His own intelligence officers, analysts, communications advisors and strategy experts.

It was also great advantage that Hughes had many personal allies in the military. Most of the agents in the surveillance departments were friendly and loyal to him to some degree, and so too were most of the officers on the _Endeavor_.

His chief of staff, Richard Mores, was one example of that. Hughes had met Mores back when he was at school. Specifically, the Vorlus military academy, which was renowned for its officer training programs. Mores was one of those brilliant minds who was also the most organized and dedicated young student at the academy in their year, apart from Hughes of course. The difference between the two was ambition.

When Hughes had been given command of the Dauntless back during the pirate conflicts, he had strived to put together a staff that he could trust. He had spent weeks searching for Mores, having not been in touch with his old friends for more than a year. When he found him, Mores was working as a low level analyst for the National Intelligence Agency. His skills were definitely being underused.

Hughes had recruited Mores as his chief of staff the very same day he found him and brought him on board the Dauntless with him. For the past decade, the two had served together in battle, growing to trust each other beyond he had ever trusted any of his other military _friends_.

Mores had, acting in his capacity as chief of staff, always been in charge of Hughes' own surveillance systems and programs. It was Mores who helped him to identify who and what needed to be tapped and how to do it. Hughes had no doubt that Mores had his own surveillance system installed to monitor himself, actually he knew it for a fact. Hughes and Mores were spying on each other, and both spying on the intelligence agents who were spying on the crew who Hughes also had individual taps on. Welcome to the Ansion military.

Now Mores was in front of him, having entered into his office. It was early in the morning, 3:15 in the morning to be exact.

"We've arrived at Dorin. You should head up to the bridge,"

If anyone else had dared to speak to him like that, he would have had them dishonorably discharged. Mores and a few other of his close confidants were the only exceptions.

Hughes gave small nod to his chief and staff and then with a hand gesture ushered him out of the room. Running his index finger around the red circle at the top right part of the screen, Hughes shut down his desktop screen. He had been monitoring the military situation on Ansion itself, making sure preparations and unit training were proceeding on schedule.

With a yawn the likes of which he would never in his life show in public, the commander got up from his chair and stretched his arms to the sky.

He straightened out his uniform and went to face his body length mirror to observe himself. He looked the epitome of professionalism, just as he always strived to.

He opened bunk side table, taking out a small plastic container with pills inside. He poured himself a glass of water from his private bathroom and dropped on of the pills inside. As soon as it made contact with the liquid, the pill disintegrated, turning the water an odd white color.

Staring directly at the sink, Hughes raised the glass to his mouth and threw the liquid inside it. His face seemed to strain for a second before he swallowed deeply. Still, he kept his mouth firmly shut and wasn't breathing even through his nose. He kept his eyes starting straight at the sink.

Entering the proper pin code onto a screen on the wall, Hughes opened the compartment built into the wall containing one of his most prized possessions. His 45 oz, 10 mm, grey steel, 53 BBY custom made officer pistol. A magnificent and special weapon, but nothing incredible at a single glance. Yet it was the pistol that his father had left behind at his family home when he departed for that fateful journey that ended with his death. He would carry it with him till his death.

Running his hand along its gleaming edge, he stuffed it in his pistol holder on his left hip and hummed contently as he heard it click into place.

The door to his quarters hissed open as he walked out, entering the proper encryption codes to lock it.

As he walked out, two tall men with black suits fell behind him and follow a few feet back. They were his bodyguards. They were part of the Office of the Secret Service. For all intents and purposes, it was an office that designated important leaders both in the armed services and in the government for protection. As the supreme leader of the Ansion military, he was one of the few dozen or so to receive such an honor.

On the way to the bridge, Hughes passed by officers and naval soldiers walking by for all different purposes. Hughes walked straight down the middle of the corridors. It was, admittedly, a partial power play. Him walking in the middle forced all others to move out of the way, but also drew their attention to him.

He walked into his own private elevator at the elevator bank. As he entered his pin into the screen on the right had side of the elevator, a group of blue uniformed men came out of the elevator behind him. This particular group were all navy officers. They walked by him steadily, inclining their heads to show respect as was customary in such a situation.

With a hiss, Hughes' private elevator door opened and he stepped inside. His two bodyguards followed, taking their place in the back.

"Bridge," he spoke out loud.

"Bridge level, acknowledged, Commander Hughes," a feminine voice spoke back from the elevator. It was an electronic voice, of course, but it sounded scarily accurate. For all Hughes knew it could be one of those damn intelligence agents, who knew. He had assumed they had bugged his private elevator anyway.

Never the matter, the elevator moved upwards at a fast place, keeping the cylinder perfectly balanced.

In the elevator, Hughes closed his eyes, meditating for a second. In his mind, he cleared his mind of his many stray thoughts, resorted his priorities, focusing his concentration.

Before he knew it, the door of the elevator hissed open again and he strode out into the hallway leading to the bridge. Groups of officers talking and discussing who knows what immediately snapped to attention and raised their hands to their foreheads in military salute. Hughes reciprocated and walked past them.

Entering his pin into the data screen besides the massive door to the bridge, it flashed green and gave an approving beeping noise a second later. The two-foot-deep durasteel door slid open.

"Admiral on deck!" Kensworth shouted from next to the large map of the Dorin system on the wall.

All the officers in the bridge stood up right away, military salutes at the ready.

"At ease," he replied calmly. They all sat down and returned to their work. His bodyguards moved to the back of the bridge and stood on either side of the door. He looked over the bridge. Many were still looking at him, waiting for his next move. Mores, and Kensworth were both in the rear looking over a holographic map of the sector.

He moved forwards along the walkway in the bridge, officers at their controls in the open space to either side glancing up at him. Two officers standing near the plated glass at the very front moved out of the way for Hughes who took their place with a nod to them.

"Status report," he called out.

Lieutenant Kensworth moved forwards and stepped in front of the officers congregated around the back.

"We have arrived at the Dorin System, sir," he began, "The galactic standard time in the system is of 0315 hours. The Republic task force is 1100 kilometers out, organized around the Dorinian Military Construction Yards in front of us."

Indeed. Around a multitude of platforms, construction docks and refueling stations was the Republic Task Force _Golden Storm_. He could just see it in the distance, a collection a greyish dots and triangles.

"Standard approach speed, vector 04-09, confirmed?" the mapping officer spoke from his station down below.

"Acknowledged, sergeant. Proceed," he replied. Slowly, the mass of vessels that was the Ansion Expeditionary Fleet lumbered space towards Dorin. Minute by minute, _Golden Storm_ was getting clearer and clearer against the background of darkness.

"Numbers Maximillian?" he called out.

A young man in the back of the bridge with is standard blue uniform touched the data tablet in his hand a few times before reading through the list. Making a hand gesture to another blue suited officer, the man came over. The two whispered for a minute before the other man nodded and returned to his station.

"Sir, Task Force designated _Golden Storm_ contains 8 Acclamator Assault Ships, 22 Consular Corvettes, 18 Arquitens Light Cruisers, 6 unnamed Supply Ships, and 11 Guardian Fighter Transports. There's also a dozen or so unidentified craft concentrated along with the fleet. They seem to be modified troop transports of some sort."

Hughes gave a nod, still looking out into space. Chief Statistics Officer Samuel Maximillian returned to his duties, moving to talk with an officer in front of a holographic map.

Hughes looked out on the Republic fleet. A sizeable force, no doubt. He observed from a distance the figures of the Acclamator ships, their large hulls showing like a mound of belly fat. Their structure was not much to look at, but Hughes knew better than anyone that visual appearances were not at all the characteristics of a powerful and efficient ship. The Acclamator was actually a well-constructed vessel with a powerful offensive weapons system.

Hughes had done extensive research on the new "Grand Army of the Republic" in the past week. It was why he had not slept an hour for three days straight, but you didn't need to know that. It would all be explained later.

"Sir, the Acclamator Ship _Rising Light_ is hailing us sir. Orders?"

Hughes spun on his feet in a semi-circle to view the bridge in its entirety from the front. He cocked his head to the side.

So the Jedi wanted to talk. Well, he was sure this conversation was going to be interested.

Slowly, he walked down the bridge, letting his eyes roam the officers and staff assembled in the room.

Without a sound, Hughes took a seat on the captain's command chair, located straight in the center of the room. The chair was a large black one protruding from the floor of the bridge. Its sharp lines and exquisite texture mixing an appearance of authority and command.

Reaching out with his arm, he swiped his finger over a skin reader on the right armrest of the chair. A wide screen appeared in front of him. With a critical eye, he examined a zoomed in picture of the Task Force, using the touch pad on his right armrest to adjust the view and the angle.

"Put him on the big screen."

Behind him at his controls, a communications officer nodded swiftly before pressing a few buttons.

In front of Hughes, a large screen popped into existence, while his own commander's one closed down as he ran his finger over the skin reader again.

The face of a black, bald, older, man appeared on the screen. He was a human to start with. He had blue eyes and was wearing what Hughes noted to be traditional Jedi robes, an auburn brown clock over his cotton white shirt and pants. This was Jedi Knight Qu Rahn.

Rahn's face was right up close to the screen, making Hughes stifle a soft chuckle at how silly he looked in that position. Hughes could make out a few officers standing behind the general, dressed in their own standard grey uniforms.

"Good morning commander Rahn," Hughes began with a strong and confident voice, "this is the full complement of the Ansion Expeditionary Fleet reporting for Task Force _Golden Storm_."

The Jedi narrowed his eyes, contemplating whether or not to say something, Hughes was sure of it.

"I just received my official commission this morning. It's Sector Army General Rahn."

He said in a loud voice. Hughes was tempted to raise an eyebrow, but thought it better not to.

"I congratulate you on your promotion then, General."

Rahn nodded, his eyes fixed somewhere else than the screen in front of him. With his face so close to the projector, it gave a certainly awkward sense. It was almost as if he was incredibly distracted, imagining something or . . . connecting to the force. Yes, that would fit the bill.

"General?" Hughes intoned, his voice as neutral as his body posture.

"What?" The general snapped back.

Hughes actually visibly frowned his eyebrows this time. What was up with the man. It was puzzling, mysterious, and just downright weird.

"I was wondering at what time I should come over to your flagship to discuss operational strategy?" His eyes bore into the jedi's. He would pay anything right now to get a glimpse into what the old man was thinking. Was it anger? Annoyance perchance? Maybe he was simply tired. It wasn't what was the problem in the end that intrigued him. It was the Jedi's reaction. He was physically distant, and yet his presence seemed so . . . there. No better words could describe his perception of the conversation.

"Discuss strategy?" the general asked, looking completely stumped on this one.

"Yes, general," Hughes pressed forwards, "So that the Ansion forces may properly prepare for the operational parameters and what combat actions we are going to need to perform."

Rahn continued to stare blankly away from the screen.

"Combat strategy?" he said, though it was closer to a whisper.

At this point, Hughes leaned forwards on his chair, his eyes wide open and staring at the general, who was still locked in a somewhat passive aggressive stance.

"Yes," this time he let the 'general' go, "so that I may prepare for what role my force will be leading in the combat situation along with the rest of the fleet."

He waited for a second. He barely noticed his once steady hands were now gripping the sides of his chair.

Finally, the general returned his attention towards him, though Hughes could still sense he had an appearance of being anywhere but where he wanted to.

"My dear boy . . ." The old man began.

His breath was cut for an instant. Boy. Did he really just call him that. Boy. Who the fuck was this man. Sure he had read all of the intelligence briefings, both from the Republic and from Ansion. From his experience in the past two minutes, they were worthless. Who the fuck was this person. To call him a boy?

"I'm afraid you simply don't understand," he continued in a soft, patronizing voice, "We aren't here to fight the separatists."

Hughes literally froze in shock at this point. He knew the man was a pacifist. Heck, he had served as a confrontation mediator between planets, tribes, companies, and individuals for the past 62 years. His intelligence had not indicated anything near what this man was suggesting, though.

This was bad. This was very very bad.

Had he really said what he just had? Was it even possible. He questioned if his ears might be deceiving him. No, that wouldn't happen.

So the Jedi didn't want to fight them? Was he mad?

"Excuse me," he stated simply, trying to prevent his total shock and stupor from seizing him.

"Yes, yes," the general spoke as he nodded to himself slowly.

"The war hasn't started yet, and it won't start. People don't need to die from this foolishness."

Did the general not understand? They were already in a war. Had Geonosis just been wiped from his mind? People fight in a war, and guess what happens when people fight? Yah that's right, people die. Where did this man think he was? Tea time diplomacy?

"We must convince our friends to abandon this reckless dream of theirs's. Yes, that's our mission."

He couldn't even pretend now. His mouth was literally hanging open in shock. Behind him, he could hear officers whispering to each other incredulously.

"Just to confirm," he started, "We are not going to engage in combat with the Separatist forces. Instead, you will be negotiating with them to lay down their arms?"

A large smile came onto the Jedi's face. To Hughes, it looked like he was totally high. Who knows, maybe he was.

"Exactly." The general stated, a look of utter content and relaxation plastered across his wrinkled face.

Hughes' breath was quickening fast and his pulse was racing.

"Very well, general." He said, nodding his head. Before the Jedi could respond he swiped his finger over the data pad on his chair and the connection was terminated.

For a minute he sat completely still, attempting, and failing, to recover from the shock.

All around him, he could sense the officers staying perfectly still. Even those at the controls were frozen.

"I want that one recorded and stored in the ship archives." He spoke neutrally, betraying no verbal emotional, though his face portrayed a very different image.

"Yes sir." Somebody replied behind him. He didn't know who it was, and right now, he honestly didn't care.

"Richard,"

Mores came up next to him. Hughes tilted his head to the side, and the man bent down right next to Hughes' face.

"Send an encrypted copy right to my office afterwards would you?"

Mores blinked once, and then stood up to straighten himself.

"Of course sir," he replied neutrally.

He stood up straight from his seat.

The entire crew on the bridge followed him, their hands on their foreheads once again in military salute.

Hughes follow them, and they all sat back down.

"Continue to approach _Golden Storm_ at the appropriate vector. Proceed with standard refueling operation on arrival." He spoke.

Turning to Mores, he gave him a long look, before he said slowly: "Inform me if anything comes up. I'll be in my office."

With that, he strode past the holographic map and the officer towards to door, his two bodyguards following behind him.

Soon enough, he was back at his office. Hastily he entered his pin and moved inside, the two others taking their places outside. With his eyes still wide open but his expression now harsh and determined, he took a seat at his desk and activated his desktop.

With a deep breath, he reached down into his inner uniform pocket and retrieved from it his earbud phone. Adjusting it properly, he fixed it into his ear. Then, he went onto the desktop and typed down a few lines of code onto an encrypted software program. He waited as numerous kissing and buzzing noises filled the room, before they all fell away.

If you were wondering what he had done, the programs had temporarily shut down the various surveillance devices and tools hidden throughout the room. He would never be able to find and remove them all, so he settled for his more efficient alternative.

He spoke into the phone: "Sebastian Spencer. Delta, 5, 2, Sierra, 9, November."

A slight ringing noise could be heard in the background, before the person on the other end picked up.

"Well well well, it's been a while Hughes."

\- Indeed it has been, Sebastian." He replied in as stern a voice as possible.

The line was awkwardly silent before Hughes spoke up.

"Ok let's not make this longer than it has to be."

He waited for a second. He hadn't actually hung up, had he?

"Agree." Came the voice after a little whole.

He lay back in his chair, his hands interlaced.

"I need you to deliver the recording of a message to the Chancellor."

Another pause. This one longer.

"What kind of message?"

His fingers tapped each other anxiously. Could he really tell him? Probably not, at least not safely in any chance.

Obviously, Sebastian could sense his unwillingness to part with that information. It would explain this next comment.

"If you don't tell me ill hang up right away,"

Hughes remained silent, testing the Senator at his own game.

"Three."

Still he didn't talk. Was he really going to hang up on him? He wondered.

"Two."

Ok he couldn't risk it. Better to let Sebastian in the plot than not have a chance to send it at all."

"One.

\- Wait."

He controlled his breathing and closed his eyes.

"It's a conversation between the Jedi General in command of Task Force _Golden Storm_ and myself."

He let the words sink in. It was a risk even mentioning that. Spencer would not hesitate to use it to hurt him or his credibility. Right now the only thing Hughes had going for him was his knowledge that Sebastian would rather ingratiate himself to more powerful people than hurt him. He was counting on it to work again as it had so many times before.

You see, Sebastian Spencer was the Brentaali Senator to the Republic Senate. He was the Chairman of the Senate Appropriations Committee, quite a powerful positon onto itself. What made him especially valuable in this situation, though, was his position on the Senate Military Oversight Committee. With this role, he could use his authority to reasonably produce the conversation and bring it directly to the Chancellor.

"And you want this delivered to the Supreme Chancellor himself?"

Hughes paused, making sure to speak very slowly.

"The same exact one. Or rather, you should be addressing him in his role as Supreme Commander of the Grand Army of the Republic."

He paused, waiting to hear his reaction.

"This is a conversation between you and your commanding officer, am I correct.

\- Absolutely."

There was another pause, this one definitely the longest so far. Then came:

"Very well, I'll deliver the message. When will you send it to me?"

Hughes smiled. He leaned forwards and straightened himself in his seat. Moving to type on the desktop, he sent a secure military memo to the Senator.

"Right . . . now." He said as he clicked the send tab.

He waited another moment.

"I've got it," came the reply a minute later.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Hughes hung up right away. He did not, however, remove the earpiece. He leaned back once more, breathing slowly, contemplating possible actions and decisions.

"Dennis, are you there?" he spoke.

Soon enough, another voice from the earpiece, a young and vibrant one, spoke back.

"Yes sir."

"Follow Senator Spencer everywhere for the next 30 hours. Send me a list every hour of anybody he meets with or talks to.

\- Yes sir."

With that, he finally took the earpiece off and deactivated it, putting it back inside the desk.

With another sigh, he went back to his desktop screen. Opening up the application for the National Intelligence Agency. Turning on his various encryption programs in the background, he moved the mouse onto the search tab and began typing: Qu Rahn, Jedi.

The page began loading information. Within no time, Hughes had a list of 2,380 various intelligence pieces all about the general. Memos, mentions, database records, commentaries, news reports, government activity records, personal accounts, everything imaginable. Wasting no time, he began to skim through them one by one.

The Clone Wars had already begun, and no pacifist Jedi General was going to stop it now.

* * *

 **0412 Hours**

 **Senator's Office; Bentraali Embassy**

 **Republica District; Coruscant**

Senator Sebastian Spencer removed his earpiece and placed it on the desk table in front of him. Making no motions, he contemplated the position he had just been put in.

Turning his chair around with the controls underneath the right armrest, he looked out at the distant horizon of Coruscant. What to do? What to do?

He raised his right hand to his mouth, thinking about the numerous options that now existed.

Damn Hughes! Why did that man always have to cause him problems. If he had the entire power of the universe at his hands, eliminating the very existence of Hughes would be the first thing he would do! Well, actually, maybe he would get rid of a few other people first . . . but you get the point!

Hughes had given him just enough that he was impossibly tempted to use it against him. Yet, it wasn't enough. It was never enough. Hughes and he played a game of the cold war. If he struck first with the recorded message, it might harm Hughes temporarily. The response, however, he was sure would be a blaster bolt to his head. Goodness knows Hughes could probably order it at any time of the day anyways.

He swung he chair back around the face his desktop. Typing away as quickly as he could, he pulled up the recorded message. Classified, damn again. It had military level encryption protections.

Cursing that damn man, he turned back around to the stunning view of Coruscant his position had granted him. Leaning back in his chair, he went over all the possibilities again. What to do? What to do?

* * *

" _ **The Origins of the Great Galactic War" by Atour Riten**_

 **Excerpt from Chapter 3: "** _ **Birth of the Confederacy"; Pages 118-120**_

 _The Confederacy of Independent Systems had its roots in many different factors. While these factors are broad and far reaching, they all had been marked by the influence of the Sith. The other collaborators in these factors, though sometimes acting in concert with the Sith, more often contributed in an unintentional way._

 _The first and most important factor was the overexpansion of the powers of the Republic's Senate. From the year 86 BBY and in the aftermath of the peace treaty between Garos IV and the Sundari, the Senate had entered into a state of laissez-faire policies. For the next 52 years, the Republic would not pass any significant legislation or constitutional amendments. Furthermore, they did not intervene militarily in planetary or system conflicts apart from several odd forced mediations._

 _This withdrawal of Republic intervention from the Galaxy forced the role of mediation to be passed more and more onto the Jedi Order. This led to many other factors in the birth of the Confederacy as the Jedi took a more hands-on role in galactic peace, and warfare._

 _For the next half a century, the galaxy saw the massive growth and expansion of the influence and power of the so called "mega-corporations". These mega corporations normally spanned the length of the galaxy and engaged in trade of various resources in many hundreds of sectors. They included the Neimoidian Trade Federation, the Techno Union, the Intergalactic Commerce Guild, the Brodogon Consortium, StarFront Health Incorporated, Shevian Gas Limited, and many thousands of others._

 _According to a galactic income survey conducted by Feleen Xeros in 38 BBY, the most powerful corporations and individuals gained an enormous percentage of galactic wealth in this period. When in 80 BBY the top 1000 wealthiest corporations controlled 8% of all galactic wealth, they controlled approximately 19% by 38 BBY. In addition, at the year of the survey, 31% of all galactic income was heading towards these corporations, an incredible growth from the 11% number in 80 BBY._

 _We know that it is in the 66 BBY that the Dark Lord of the Sith of the time, Darth Plagueis established his holding company Damask Holdings Incorporated. Through his persona as Hugo Damask, Plagueis established connections with leaders, board members, and directors of many of the mega-corporations. These connections would be grown and taken advantage of Plagueis' apprentice, Darth Sidious, once he slew his master in 32 BBY._

 _The obvious result of the expanding power and influence of the mega-corporations was the great losses suffered by smaller traders. All throughout the galaxy, as large companies tightened their control over the great trade routes, individuals found it harder and harder to compete. The galactic span of the corporations allowed them to manufacture and move their products at very cheap prices. In turn, millions of individual merchants were forced out of business and made bankrupt by the corporations._

 _With the loosening of bribery regulations in the Galurn Act of 70 BBY, mega-corporations moved to use their new wealth to influence local and galactic politics. Tens of thousands of star systems passed law after law benefiting the mega-corporations and giving them massive tax breaks._

 _In the controversial Woprom Act of 67 BBY, corporations were given the same legal status as planets while also raising the price necessary for planet inclusion into the Republic Senate. In the next years, thousands of corporations would join the Senate, paying trillions of credits in admission fees. Most of the money would evaporate from government coffers into the hands of private senators and other political allies._

 _Another consequence of the laissez-fair attitude of the Republic Senate was the secret armament of the mega-corporations. Wanting to protect their newfound hold on galactic power and needing to compete more and more with fellow trading companies, the corporations began to build up corporate security forces._

 _While there were still numerous galactic laws preventing corporations from forming military armies and fleets, there were numerous loopholes. The mega-corporations acted to take advantage of them._

 _In isolated outer rim worlds, the mega-corporations built up their armed presence. They converted deep space trading posts into dockyards and built new classes of light frigates and destroyers. They rotated their large trade ships to their various dockyards to secretly install hidden weapons and defense systems._

 _It is believed that the secret armament of the mega-corporations began on a large scale basis around the year 41 BBY. There were two important consequences of the construction of military fleets and security forces. Firstly, was the beginning of large scale proxy wars between the various mega-corporations in the galaxy. The corporations were no longer able to corner their corporate enemies through political or intimidation means. With all corporations knowing that the others were building up military forces, none wanted to enter direct confrontations for fears of catastrophic trade wars. The answer was proxy warfare._

 _Mercenary fleets formed from dust all across the galaxy to fight in these secret wars. Mega-corporations would place bounties on the resources and assets of each other. Individual armed groups, most unable to be paid by political groups, took up the offers eagerly. The proxy wars served to just increase the arming of individual mega-corporations as each sought to protect itself and its allies from its enemies and its enemy's allies._

 _The second consequence was the general growth of piracy. As previously stated, the rise of the mega-corporations had driven millions of space traders into poverty and desperation. With the mega-corporations being the ultimate political power in many sectors of the galaxy, the impoverished turned to crime._

 _Sometimes they would act on their own and sometimes they would band together in pirate groups. No matter the individual cases, the result on planes and sectors was devastating. From the decade of the 40s to the 30s, the number of ships victim to pirate attacks rose over 850%. The estimated number of pirates and other space faring criminals rose by nearly five times._

 _Sometime in the early months of 35 BBY, a collection of disenfranchised traders, merchants, travelers, and ship captains came together on the outer rim planet of Tantra. There, they formed the military alliance known as the Nebula Front, named after the sector of space the planet Tantra lay in._

 _The Nebula Front was founded on total opposition to the mega-corporations and any and all allies political and military that supported them. Since the Front members believed, correctly, that no establishment political force could or would willingly challenge the awesome power of the mega-corporations, military force was seen as the only option._

 _While the mega-corporations might have been building secret security forces and arming many of their trading vessels, the truth was that most trade ships of the corporations were still completely indefensible. For decade, the mega-corporations had relied on their power and influence over politicians, planetary trade, and local militaries to be able to act with virtual impunity and without fear or recourse._

 _What they were not prepared for, though, was an extra-legal terrorist group that wanted to see their total destruction. The Nebular Front didn't want resources or money, they just wanted to see the mega-corporations burn. And burn they did._

 _In just the first years of operation, the Nebula Front, operating solely along the Rimma Trade Route, they destroyed over 135,000 vessels. In an annual report by the Trade Federation of that year, it cited an incredible loss of 8% of their entire merchant fleet. While the Trade Federation suffered by far the most losses, hundreds of other mega-corporations felt the effects of the Nebula Front's war on them harshly._

 _In their second year of operation in 34 BBY, the Nebula Front proved they had succeeded in showing themselves to be an effective resistance to the mega-corporations. Records maintained by the group show a sizeable recruitment rate, as many pirate forces joined in. By their second year, the Front had nearly doubled its membership. Its offensives didn't slow down. In the first half of the year alone, they sunk 150,000 vessels._

 _By this point, the Nebula Front was a problem that all the mega-corporations and most politicians in the region agreed needed to be wiped out. Unfortunately, by that time, there was a growing in a movement in the senate in opposition to the mega-corporations. The general public opinion had been moving against the corporations for decades, and its effects had shown._

 _Led by the popular senator from Naboo, Sheev Palpatine, the anti-corporation Social Justice political party was gaining power. The Social Justice Party had a platform of interventionist Republic policies, both militarily and economically. Most strongly, they believed that the mega-corporations needed to be broken up and downsized for the security of the galaxy._

 _Under pressure from Palpatine and others, the Senate had fixed their full attention on the crisis along the Rimma Trade Route. The Social Justice Party urged for intervention to break up the various mega-corporations involved and militarily defeating the Nebula Front. With the Senate's attention on the crisis, the mega-corporations could not afford to use their corporate military forces to battle the Nebula Front. Legally, if the mega-corporations engaged in armed conflict with another force in an offensive manner, the Senate would be forced to disband the corporation and mark them as an illegal company. This produced a high tension standoff in the Senate._

 _The Social Justice Party would not allow the mega-corporations to officially arm themselves and maintain the power they had over trade. The Republican Party, which was aligned with the mega-corporations, did not have the majority needed to by themselves allow the mega-corporations to take the fight to the Nebula Front. After hours nonstop of negotiations for weeks on end, the Senate passed the Tarley-Oludin Act._

 _The act allowed mega-corporations to officially maintain their own security forces. In a concession to the Social Justice Party, the act was tied together with a constitutional amendment to the Senate giving it the authority to tax trade routes and not just trade posts._

 _In the months after the passing of the Tarley-Oludin Act, the mega-corporations deployed the full might of their respective hidden militaries against the Nebula Front. The Front's forces were crushed and their pirating bases were destroyed one after the other. While standing war policy called for the capturing of insurgent forces over their death, tens of thousands of Nebula Front members went "missing" during this time._

 _However, the mega-corporations had miscalculated public opinion. The way in which the mega-corporations had brutally crushed and suppressed the Nebula Front scared the core worlds instead of intimidated them. The next year, in 33 BBY, the Social Justice Party gained a majority of seats in the Senate over the Republican Party, who had held a majority since 88 BBY._

 _The first action of the new Senate was to pass its first major tax since before the Republican Party had gained power. It involved a 22% tax rate on every trade route in the galaxy, and dramatically increased the sales taxes and transport taxes on corporations and companies of all sizes._

 _In order to enforce the new laws and taxes, the Senate also passed a new budget, greatly expanding the powers and roles of the various executive departments. They were now to regulate trade on a level not seen for centuries, and the Republic bureaucracy was going to almost triple in size by the next year._

 _While at the time the actions to curtail the powers of the mega-corporations seemed to be in the best interest of the galaxy, they were crucial to the birth of the Separatist movement. While acting against the mega-corporations, the Senate also alienated and moved against the millions of traders and merchants who were also subjected to the new taxes. The expansion of the Republic government caused growing distrust of the Senate and opposition to Republic intervention in the mid and outer rim._

 _This distrust and opposition to the Senate would swell on outer rim and mid rim worlds that had for long not benefited under the Republic. With the core and expansion region systems maintaining their tight grip over the Coruscanti political system, the Senate acted in their best interests. With the largest transport and trade laws that anyone had seen in their lives, the Senate became the new object of scapegoating in the outer worlds. Administrations in these systems felt the Republic had long cheated them over, and the new laws were just a continuation of these policies._

 _The fires of resentment were no doubt fanned by both the Sith Lords and their clandestine network as well as those working for the mega-corporations. No matter, while the corporations had been the scapegoat for many decades, that title now passed to the Senate and other Republican institutions. This discontent would be channeled into a powerful secessionist movement._

 _It is ironic on many levels that when hundreds of the mega-corporations joined in support of succession in the following decade, the movement would embrace them with open arms, in stark contrast to public opinion just years before._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello all! Hope you enjoy this latest update.**

 **Thanks for following and reading this story, it truly is much appreciated.**

 **As you can see, there are many simultaneous conflicts going on right now. These conflicts are between individual peoples, institutions, planets, and governments. This story is big and very broad, and will cover as much diverse content as it can.**

 **If you have any questions or comments, please leave a review and I will make sure to reply as soon as I can.**

 **I myself find that the history text at the bottom of chapters is both interesting and a different way to tell part of a story. Please let me know what you think of it.**

 **See you next time,**

 **Greysider**


	3. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. All other concepts and ideas from other books or stories belong to their respective authors. No copyright infringement is intended**.

* * *

 **Chapter Summary:**

 **As clock ticks down to _Golden Storm_ 's offensive towards Vicondor, Hughes attempts to outmaneuver the Jedi General to prevent a military disaster. All the while he must content with a mysterious enemy who seeks to take him down.**

 **Additional Content:** **" _The Ansion Intelligence Services"_**

* * *

 **1030 Hours**

 **Day 10; 3** **rd** **Standard Galactic Month of the Year 22 BBY**

 **Level 2, Floor E;** **Battleship** _ **Endeavor**_

 **Dorin System; Mid-Rim**

The elevator doors open with a hiss.

Out of them stepped Alastair Hughes and his contingent of aids. Richard Mores was right next to him, his intelligence advisor and his communications director on his left. Behind them all were his two bodyguards. With a confidant pose and eyes portraying an expression of calm determination, Hughes strode down the tight hallway, his two men following a short distance behind.

Behind those blue eyes, though, he was anything but calm, confidant. Determined he certainly was. It had been a day since he had sent Senator Spencer the recording of his conversation with his new commanding officer. He had not yet received a response! Nothing!

If Sebastian being stubborn was all it was, it would be understandable. It would have been aggravating, but understandable. He could have mobilized other assets to obtain the same result.

What was worrying was that not only had Spencer seemingly disappeared from the galaxy, but so too had Dennis. Dennister Cascus was a key part of Hughes' own intelligence and power organization. He had already directed some other agents he had on the ground in Coruscant to make inquiries about the man, but so far they had found nothing.

Sometimes Dennis had to go "underground", as to say, in which case he would be out of contact for a little bit. This was not one of those times. At this moment, Hughes was pressed for time and he needed every asset he had working double time. The disappearance of Mr. Cascus, therefore, was very troubling.

The Jedi, Rahn, had set the date for the move on Ansion to the 13th. With an approximate half a day hyperspace trip to Vicondor, that gave him less than four days to set the situation straight. Hughes would always obey the orders of his ranking commander, but there was absolutely no way he was going to engage separatist forces without the objective of actually firing at them.

Originally, the date of departure had been tomorrow, the 11th. The Jedi, though, had insisted on waiting for the arrival of three _Dreadnought_ -class Destroyers from the shipyards at Bilbingri. Furthermore, a group of half a dozen _Pelta_ -class frigates and three squadrons of NTB-60 naval bombers were on route from Palanhi. Once they both arrived, Rahn was planning to move out right away.

Of course, one might wonder why he himself could not have gone and brought the situation to the ears of the General's superiors. There were multiple complications with that idea. Firstly, the Grand Army of the Republic had been created just a week ago from scratch. The entire chain of military command was practically a thin piece of paper. There were no established hierarchies of command, logistics, or deployment. There were only the existing generals out in the field and the meager forces they had at their command.

The only firmly established position in the chain of command was the Supreme Commander, the Chancellor Palpatine. The passing of the Military Creation Act gave the Chancellor his power as Commander-in-Chief of the army, giving him total authority over all its actions. He was the only real power over Rahn's head. There were no military sector governors, no oversector admirals, no Military High Command, only Palpatine.

He also couldn't take care of this crisis himself. That would mean directly disobeying and betraying his ranking commander over a personal complaint. At least that's what it would have been in legal terms. If he had succeeded, he still would carry that stigma of betrayal. If he didn't, though, he would face probable court martial, possible imprisonment for treason, and definite lifelong expulsion from the military of both Ansion and the Republic.

Now clearly it was the Jedi who was the one committing actual treason. Yet without any sort of military hierarchy or military courts, it would be his word against Rahn's. The word of the ruthless veteran commander of the forces of an outer-rim planet against that of an oh so honorable and moral Jedi Knight. I think we all know who the people would have believed, yet alone the Senate.

At the moment, he couldn't challenge somebody like Rahn by himself. Not with the institutional opposition aligned against him. If he dared to go public with the pacifist statements he had made to him, it was likely they would never see the light of day. The reason you might ask: The Jedi Order. He knew how they operated. He had studied their history and their actions for many years back at Vorlus. One of the most important rules they operate by was the _defense of your brothers and sisters of the force from the attacks by those on the outside steeped in darkness and hateful intent_. That was taken from the _Manuel on Membership to the Jedi Order_ , an old book that had been edited by every Jedi Council for the past thousand years. No matter the hypocrisy it implied, and trust him it implied quite a lot, its importance was true. The Jedi would not allow one of their own to be disgraced publicly or privately by a non-Jedi.

He had taken into consideration other actions against General Rahn, in the case of necessity. Some of them had been just slightly extra-constitutional. Unfortunately, none of those would work either. If he even tried just to circumvent the military system and simply arrest Rahn himself or seize his command from him, he would be dead before the end of the week. He could of course claim that Rahn was committing treason against the Republic, but even that wouldn't be enough. The Jedi on Coruscant would mobilize all of their influence immediately to force the Supreme Chancellor to order his own arrest and probable execution. It might sound a bit harsh for an institution as "pure" and "light" as the Jedi Order, but don't worry, he had studied his history well, and the Jedi sure knew how to cover a lot up from that great marble temple of theirs.

No, what he needed was a direct communication with the Chancellor. Sebastian Spencer had failed to provide that. Now he had to resort to more . . . unfavorable methods to salvage the situation at hand.

What he needed was not only to prove beyond a doubt that Rahn was acting in a way that was treasonous to the Republic. To do that, he needed to prove that Rahn's plan to negotiate with the separatists was his own, and not at all accepted by the military. Luckily for him, he had an ace, and he fully intended to use it.

Coming up to the end of the hallway, he found himself in a small isolated space near the very bottom of the ship. In front of his was a large double door, clearly defended by multiple layers of external and internal security. To the sides of the door stood two military guards. They wore their standard grey armor on their legs and chest, their faces unprotected for their current role. They both held light and maneuverable DI-159 Blaster Rifles in their hands, both pointed downwards at the ground . . . for now.

With a stern face, Hughes seemed to ignore their very presence as he proceeded right up to the door. For a second the two guards seemed to get a firmer grasp on their rifles and moved to complain. A clicking sound was heard as Hughes' two bodyguards turned their own blaster pistols in their hands off their safety modes. A harsh look from Mores and the intimidating positioning of the bodyguards seemed to back them off, and they remained in their designated places.

Hughes entered in his special pin code and then placed his hand on the digital hand reader when it made itself available to him. As soon as the tab above the scanner blinked green and gave off a small beeping sound, Hughes rounded on the door guard to his right.

To the guard's credit, he didn't flinch or otherwise move. Instead he stood firm, although Hughes noticed two of his fingers barely vibrating against the blaster rifle in his hands.

"I don't think I've seen you here before, soldier." Hughes commented.

"Yes sir," the guard replied swiftly, his voice quivering a bit in the end.

"Well who are you?

\- Private Xavier Gazeala, sir." He said immediately, just a little straighter this time around.

Hughes smiled, an act he had practiced all too many times.

"I'm going to need your key card private," he said amusedly, a lighthearted expression taking over his stern one.

The guard opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. The hand on his blaster began to move again, and Hughes could notice his palms seemed to be sweating by the way he kept rubbing them up and down.

"I'm sorry sir but protocol dictates that no non-intelligence officer can enter without the expressed permission of . . .

\- I'm well aware of what protocol dictates, Private Gazeala."

Gazeala sucked in a small breath, trying not to fall over in indecision before his fleet commander.

"Sir . . ." he spoke up hesitantly.

Hughes expression morphed from one of benevolent leadership to stone cold in the flick of a second. His heavy blue eyes glaring down upon him, Gazeala felt like he was crawling into a small hole. In front of him, Mores stood absolutely still and behind him the two bodyguards still maintained their pistols opening shown. He tried to turn his head to get a glance at his colleague behind where Hughes stood. He couldn't do it. His commander seemed to take up twice as much space as he actually occupied and his menacing face bore down upon him.

His hand shaking the entire time, he reached into his inner armor pocket and withdrew the lanyard kept inside. Not daring to look at any of the seven people around him, he swiped his card on the scanner next to the hand reader and entered his own pin number. The blast doors opened as Hughes continued to look down upon him.

The Commander just stood there until he suddenly turned away from him and walked through the doors with his contingent. Mores gave him a straight faced look as he walked on threw. When the doors finally closed behind him, Gazeala let out a deep breath and turned to look at the other guard. Unlike him, his colleague's eyes were staring right at the corridor in front of them, seemingly without even breathing. Figuring it was probably the most sensible thing to do, Gazeala moved to copy him. He was most certainly going to ask for a transfer the moment he was dismissed for the day. He noticed his hands were gripping his gun so much they began to hurt. With another deep breath, he loosened his grip, trying to relax.

Meanwhile Hughes and his aides walked onto a balcony overseeing a large room. On the bottom floor rows of desktops were set up with dozens of intel officers buzzing around. The floor he was on was covered with offices to the sides and back, creating a circle of balcony space around the open room. This was the _Endeavor_ 's CyberCommand center.

With a blank look plastered around his face, Hughes waited silently with his aides around him. Within no time at all, all the agents paused in their various activities to stare up in his direction. Hughes gave them all a false smile.

From one offices in the far left, a man in a plain grey uniform bust out of his office and rushed over to their location. His hair seemed to be untamable, yet still presentable. His left eye was consistently blinking, the result of an old war wound suffered during the Ansion Pirate War. He was Senior Military Intelligence Agent Jeremy Corners. Advantageous for Hughes, Jeremy happened to be another one of his "old friends".

Yelling at everybody to get back to work, the ruffled man moved in front of them and moved close to Hughes to whisper.

"Sir, you know the protocol!" he exclaimed in a hushed tone, "You can't just walk in here! For god sakes Al. That's just not done!"

Hughes took a moment to look directly into the man's face. The intel agent straightened his posture and stood tall, his eyes waiting for their response.

"I need you to issue a FISO for General Rahn," Was all he said. Apart from his mouth, the rest of his facial expression hadn't changed.

Jeremy's mouth opened, then promptly closed. His eyes were wide in shock, and he turned to look at the intel officers around the room just to distract himself from his own surprise. He turned back to the group shaking his head slowly and waving his heads around.

Hughes stood firm without a hint of expression.

With a sigh of resignation, Jeremy threw his hands up into the air.

"Follow me," he said solemnly.

With the group walking just behind him, Jeremy made his way back into his office. Entering his pin code and taking a hand scan, he let the group inside the office. Hughes motioned to his two bodyguards and they took their place outside the door as it closed behind the group entering. Sitting down at his desk, Jeremy moved to press a few unseen buttons under his desk, making the door a one-way mirror and activating the various security mechanisms that Hughes was sure were protecting the room.

Jeremy sat down as his leather black chair, his head laid back and his eyes closed. Hughes and his staff remained standing.

Finally, Jeremy leaned forwards and put his hands together on his desk.

"Hughes, please think about you're doing. I'm serious here."

Hughes didn't move an inch.

"I said . . . I want a FISO. Since when is that illegal?"

Jeremy rolled back and placed his hands on his head.

"Geez Al . . ." he stared, shaking his head in his hands.

"Talk to me," Hughes cut him off, "What's going on?"

Jeremy didn't move from his position. His head was hung over, his eyes refusing to meet anyone else's, his eyes unmoving from looking at the top of his desk.

Hughes raised an eyebrow. This was unexpected. Sure some resistance from Jeremy would have been normal, especially in the context of the matter. This didn't seem like resistance though. It was something else.

A FISO was a Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Order. While that phase may seem all flowery and special, it really just meant an order for the CyberCommand division to spy on a foreign person or military unity and illegally gather information on them. They had been in practice in Ansion for years. Sure they were strictly regulated and needed multiple levels of approval, but they were quite common in fact. Needless to say, the existence of FISO's was not a publicly known fact and most certainly not known to other planets.

Jeremy took another breath and looked up at Hughes.

"I can't do it," he said, "I just can't Al.

\- What do you mean you can't do it? All you have to do is sign off on it and approve the target.

\- It would have to be approved by the Director!

\- And why would that pose a problem? I have total authority to order you to submit one!" Hughes snapped back harshly

Jeremy continued to open and close his eyes slowly. He raised a hand back up to his head.

"I've received orders from the Director not to grant you any FISOs." He admitted, taking his hands off his face to look directly into Hughes's eyes.

The Commander cocked his head to the side. He was trying to remain as neutral and stern at the moment, but inside he was bubbling in anger.

What was this!? The Director had no power to do such a thing. He knew military law very well! Fleet commanders had the authority to request surveillance orders from their contingent's intelligence unit. The unit was under the designated command of the fleet, its chief agent was under the command of the Fleet Commander. As such, Hughes could order Jeremy to provide a FISO whenever he wished!

He looked down at his right hand. It was shaking furiously against his leg. He could feel it vibrating back and forth. It stopped as soon as he lay eyes on it. He leveled himself to face Jeremy, his mouth snarling with anger.

"I'm sorry Al, I truly am!" Jeremy pleaded, his hands out over his desk.

Hughes composed himself quickly, taking a deep breath. Then, with a pointed look to his old friend, he swept himself on his feet and walked out of the room, his entourage following him.

"Alastair!" The intelligence agent shouted from behind him but they were already long gone. He turned around and plastered his face against the wall. He then retreated a few feet and drove his fist into it.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he moaned as he hit the wall over and over again.

As Hughes and his entourage had stridden out of the CyberCommand offices, the staff there had again stopped to look at them. It wasn't ever day after all that the Fleet Commander came barging into their work stations, not even one as familiar to them as Commander Hughes.

Hughes didn't stop walking until he reached his private office. He dismissed his intelligence and communications advisor, leaving them to return to their usual offices. His bodyguards had taken their place outside the door. Richard Mores was standing in front of his desk while he was sitting in his chair, his face scrunched up in concentration.

Mores stood silently, awaiting the burst of orders that he expected from Hughes' mouth any moment now. He too, was very frustrated and confused. He didn't know exactly what was going on, and this was highly disturbing. He bet that Hughes would have some ideas, but he couldn't be sure. He hoped so at least.

Hughes looked up at him, his expressions now certain and confident.

"Terminate the communication line from the fleet back to Ansion. Hack into it and sever the connection."

Mores nodded his head.

"I'll get your intel staff to do it as soon as possible. May I ask why?"

Hughes leaned back on his chair and rolled his head up and down. He addressed his chief of staff: "Something's going on."

Mores raised an eyebrow.

"Something dangerous, and far more serious than I imagined." Hughes continued, looking past Mores to a painting on the left wall.

"You have a plan?" his chief aid questioned.

A smirk made its way onto Hughes' face as he turned his head to the other man. It said all that Mores needed to know. With a nod and salute, he walked out of the room. Hughes watched him leave calculating possibilities and opportunities inside his head.

First Cascus, now this. It was highly disturbing to say the least. Jeremy was loyal to him; he knew that for sure. Yet with FISOs, the decision was out of the intel agent's hands. The issue reverted back to Ansion. He needed to know.

That was a problem he would set aside for later though. At the moment, he needed to tackle Qu Rahn. He could not allow an incompetent pacifist Jedi ruin everything right now. This war offered the opportunity for Ansion to finally emerge from the domestic troubles that had plagued it for the past centuries. It offered it the chance to reinvent itself and present a new image to the galaxy. In many ways his own situation was similar.

For more than a decade, he had proudly served the small military of a far off planet. Sure, Ansion was powerful and prosperous, but as an isolationist nation off in the outer-rim, it didn't command any such galactic influence or attention. This war was going to change that, both for Ansion and for himself. It had been the honor of his life serving the Ansion Defense Force, but now it was time for a promotion. A promotion to the galactic stage, yes. That is what the Clone Wars offered.

He had not entered into the war without expectations of setbacks. Recent events, however, were far more than setbacks. The war had not even begun in earnest and already somebody was trying to thrust him out of it. This would not stand!

He had spent years preparing for this occurrence! He had spent years carefully developing his own international intelligence network! It was not about to be brought down now! Not when he had not even started! Not when he had just lined up on the starting line! No! Not now!

Yet his enemies always underestimated him. They thought that this was damaging to him? This was nothing! A scratch perhaps. He would recover. He would find his enemies. He would fight forever and ever. And he would win. At the end of the day, that was the only thing that mattered. Winning. It didn't matter if he had to cheat, lie, betray, abandon and murder but he would win! The world had only seen the very edges of Alastair Hughes. Just wait until they got the full picture!

With heavy breathes, he opened up his desktop screen and began reviewing the multiple memos, data records, and reports that he had from the day.

Soon enough, the war would truly begin! And with him at its helm, well, there was just no telling how it would end . . .

* * *

 **1400 Hours**

 **Outside the town of Almedas, Floran District**

 **Ansion; Outer-Rim**

Two men in formal business suits were talking to each other in a luxurious room.

One of them had a very professional look about him. He had a critical look in his eyes and he was circling around with his arms crossed around his chest. The other man was much more relaxed. He had a drink in hand, Alderani Whiskey, and was lying back on a velvety purple couch. It looked far more like a loveseat couch than anything else, but it didn't matter that it didn't fit the mood of the meeting. It would most likely serve its proper purpose later for the man sitting on it.

"Do you have another name for me?" he asked.

"I do," the other one replied, "two in fact." He turned to glance out the window.

"Jaruun Pias and Terri Mas," he said, his voice bland and emotionless.

The man sitting looked impressed, nodding appreciatively.

"You know I'm not comfortable with this," the man standing announced, turning to face the other, "they're my own agents,"

The sitting man simply smiled and raised his glass to his lips, taking a generous sip.

"Now, now, Orin," he said, "they're Hughes' people. Not yours."

Seeing as he was not about to reply, the man named Orin pushed back: "Hughes will find out about this Ian, I'm sure of it!"

The man sitting down, Ian, replied in an amused tone: "And . . . ?"

"And that man is scary! I know and you know it too!" he spoke a bit louder now.

"Are you having second thoughts?" Ian asked, a small frown appearing.

"No, no . . . " Orin muttered, more to himself than to anyone.

You know that this course is the best one for Ansion." Ian continued, his velvety words helping to sooth his companion.

Ian rose from his couch gracefully and went over to a small self-serve bar in the corner of the room. Taking out a crystal glace from the compartment under it, he opened up the large glass blue bottle of Alderani whiskey and poured a generous portion into the glass. He walked over and handed it to Orin with a bright smile on his face.

Orin gave him a weak smile and accepted it, taking a sip and exhaling loudly.

"Come, come," Ian said, putting his hand on his friend's back and leading him over to the expansive window.

"Look out at our beautiful planet, Orin," he spoke while they both gazed out onto the gorgeous landscape of the Ansonian planes from the country manor, "Soon it will be the pride of the galaxy,"

Orin smiled, a real one now, the image of a glorious Ansion entering into his mind.

"Forget Hughes," Ian whispered, "He'll be taken care of in due time . . ."

A cruel grin made its way onto his face.

* * *

 **1430 Hours**

 **Level 5, Floor A – Crew Quarters;** **Battleship** _ **Endeavor**_

 **Dorin System; Mid-Rim**

With a deep sigh, Private Xavier Gazeala dropped into his small cot. He was in his quarters. It was a small and compact room, but it was enough. It was comfortable. It was sufficient. Such was the way that the soldiers of Ansion lived. Well, he guessed it would be soldier of the Republic now. Not officially perhaps, but for all intents and purposes.

He had just finished his day shift. He would have a three-hour break until his next one, and dear lord did he need it. Right now, he was lying back on his small bed, simply contemplating his life.

The dorm room was empty right now, expect for him. Why might you ask? It was the standard time of the week when soldiers and officers were allowed to write back home to their families. For cybersecurity purposes, there was only a six-hour window to do so every week, and nobody missed the small chance to. Except for him of course. He didn't have parents.

He had been orphaned at the age of 3, or so his caretakers had told him. He had no recollection of his biological parents, nor did he want to. Naturally, the army had been the perfect escape from the boring routines of his normal life. He had signed up as soon as he could when he turned 18. That had been nine years ago.

When he had originally joined, he had looked up to his personal hero as inspiration. He was a naval commander. He was confident, proud, strong. He was everything that Xavier himself wanted to be, but couldn't. At heart, he was quiet, he was small. The name of his hero: Alastair Hughes. It explained why he had frozen up and shaken in fear when he had been confronted by the Commander earlier. He had pleaded with his training officer to be allowed to serve aboard the _Endeavor_ , if only to by miracle see his hero pass by the hallways.

Earlier today though, the Commander had talked to him. To him! Of all people! Disastrously, he couldn't officially do what his commander had ordered him to! It was the worst of situations! He had had the chance to serve the great Commander Hughes, and he had failed!

So he lay here, thinking about that one moment. How it had turned from heaven to hell in the space of a minute. He gulped, then shut his eyes for a second.

The next one, his fellow privates and cadets poured into the room. They were loud and noisy, as always. No surprise there. The dorm rooms were allowed into the massive communications center down below as groups, so they would all return together. From the peace and quiet that he had been in for the past hour, this outburst felt like a bomb had gone off under him.

Scowling in annoyance, he popped his headphones into his ears, calming down as the familiar sound of his favorite album returned to him. _Dreams of Space_ by Celestia Korig was a beautiful classical piece that had been the fab of the Ansion elite a few years back. Needless to say, Xavier was not one of these elites, nor would he ever be. It didn't mean he couldn't enjoy a beautiful orchestra composition though. The volume was loud enough that he didn't need to hear the useless squabbling's of his fellow soldiers. Most people his age would be caught up in the latest rock or techno albums from artists such as Roses Terri or Larian Noram, but people always told him he acted older than his age.

That was until his friend, Michael Isner, punched him in the shoulder to get his attention.

"What?" he muttered back, opening his right eye to see his friend in front of his cot.

"Didn't you hear the news?" his friend asked, cautiously.

Xavier frowned and shacked his head. No, he hadn't. He had been in his bunk for the past quarter of an hour or so, and he hadn't heard anything before.

"Communications have been knocked out!" Isner yelled.

Xavier looked around. It looked like all of the dozen of his dorm mates were whispering about the same thing.

"What do you mean?" he replied, "Knocked out?"

"Yah," Isner replied, "Nobody can send their messages back home. Some communications guy said that the intel transfers are failing too!"

Xavier swung his legs over the beg to sit upright. That was definitely no normal. In fact, that was far from normal. He had never heard of that happening before. Ansion vessels had the best communications security in world, so he had been led to believe. Perhaps all the nationalist propaganda taught at the training base had been false. He had always assumed some of it had, but this was the core of Ansion's pride: Cyber. Hell, every single Ansion ship was staffed with dozens upon dozens of intelligence agents and cybersecurity officers. Maybe it was an intentional shutdown. He wouldn't know. He resigned himself to this fact.

Just as Isner was about to speak again, a loud buzzing sound filled the dorm room.

"Attention all personnel aboard Ansion Expeditionary Fleet, a message from Fleet Commander Hughes." A feminine voice came on over the fleet wide communications network.

The voice seemed to be coming from right next to them, but Xavier knew that the advanced sound system was installed in-between floors to create that feeling.

It was quite rare that Hughes himself would come onto the network to deliver a message. Normally they were deliver either through electronic recordings or sometimes military staffers. Xavier cleared his mind though and prepared to listen. Soon enough, Hughes' voice, very different than the one he had the unfortunate to hear earlier, came on.

"You will have noticed that just a little while ago our fleet communication networks to Ansion have been broken. I have reviewed the event with my intelligence advisor and the cyber command agents in my staff. At this moment, we have ascertained that this was an attack on the communications networks of the fleet."

Xavier listened attentively with his eyes wide in shock. An attack on the fleet. They hadn't even engaged enemy forces yet! Was this a preemptive strike!?

"For the safety of the fleet and the investigation of our intelligence units, I have ordered the temporary shutting down of all communication networks outside of the fleet. Those networks between the fleet vessels shall be monitored at all times by our noble intelligence agents. That will be all."

Another loud buzzing sound indicated the end of the message. No time had passed before all of his roommates had begun whispering to each other again. Isner took one look at him and went to join his other friends, leaving Xavier to think for himself on his bed. Well, so much for getting an hour or two of sleep now, he thought, as he pushed himself out of bed to go join his companions.

* * *

 **1800 Hours**

 **Ground level; Roach Military Production Yards**

 **Balmorra; Colonies**

A middle aged man in a dark clock made his way through the loud noises of the production yard. Sparks of electricity from the welding and construction flew all over the yard. Workers were shouting for instructions, foremen were shouting orders, engineers were shouting advice.

It was loud enough to blast somebody's eardrum out. In fact, most of the foremen and overseers had some from or another of ear protection on. The workers, as usual, were granted no such privileges. He had been born with hearing deficiencies, so the noises had no effect on him. From the sonic waves he could tell the intensity of the volume, but his ears could not quite comprehend it.

His name was Terri Mas. He was an agent of the National Intelligence Agency of Ansion. He was just one of many thousands of agents spread out across the galaxy, gathering information, state secrets, and military analysis. The NIA was the bulwark of Ansion. It's shield against the darkness of night. He was proud to serve the force, and his dream was to make the force proud of him.

He, like everybody in the NIA, held secrets. His secret was potentially more important than many others though. He had a second employer, and his name was Alastair Hughes.

It wasn't like he had joined up voluntarily, no, not at all. Rather it was job security and really, life security, that drove him into Hughes' welcoming arms. Agents of the NIA lived rather dangerous lives, after all.

If they were ever discovered or arrested by a foreign state, organization, or corporation, Ansion immediately denied their existence. Furthermore, they had many mechanisms in place to make sure that agents didn't talk about what they weren't supposed to. Every agent, no matter where they served, was implanted with a microchip right behind their left ear. It wasn't noticeable, even if you knew it was there. The microchip listened in on your every words and with the push of a button from NIA HQ, it would blow a hole in the left side of your head. Needless to say, that wasn't a desired outcome.

Agents were never told about the microchips in their heads. It would be terrible for moral, and nobody would ever join the service. It was Hughes who had told him more than six years ago about the existence of that particular mechanism. It also revealed another lie the NIA had told him. He was led to believe that if he was ever captured or arrested, Ansion special forces teams would be able to get him out of any prison or base, anywhere.

Well, that was just plainly not true. Rather, they would kill him at the first chance they got to maintain the agency's secrets. Indeed, terrorist attacks were a common method the leadership used to get rid of agents abroad without causing too many problems.

What Hughes' had given him was protection against being 'removed' by the agency he worked for. Hughes' had enough clout inside the intelligence services to take personal interest in matters like these. The Commander also had significant blackmail evidence on him, enough to see him 'removed' if he ever anonymously handed it over to the NIA.

With all these factors in mind, it should be no wonder why Mas decided it was simply better to accept Hughes' offer and work for two power-hungry people instead of just one. He would love to see the Director and Hughes' square off in an actual war, but he already knew who would win. Hughes would run circles around the Director, no matter how much power over the intelligence services the Director had.

Terri knew he wasn't alone in the organization of spies, aids, confidants, and diplomats that Hughes had gathered around him. He only knew a handful of others that had similar positions as he, but he knew there were many more. Hundreds? Thousands? He couldn't tell. And if he ever did . . . well he would find himself decapitated pretty quickly.

He knew, though, that the military and government intelligence agencies had been Hughes' path towards the organization he now ruled over. He, Terri Mas, was just a small pawn on the chessboard of kings.

Yet he had no problem with his position. His ultimate purpose in life was to bring glory to Ansion. Both the NIA and Hughes' would do that, no matter their different styles. At the end of the day, he told himself he would always be working for Ansion one way or another, and that was all that mattered.

Suddenly, he felt a rushed movement behind him. Immediately, his hand gripped his steel pistol in his right hip holster. His right hand crossed over his body to press a button on the side of his watch, leaving a small circle take a glowing red color at the bottom.

Then, he spun around, his pistol in his strong grip.

There was nobody around him. Once again, all he could see was the miles upon miles of construction workers smashing away at pieces of metal. A frown came over his face. Perhaps it was nothing, he thought.

And then he couldn't breathe.

He could fell the air leaving his lungs. He could feel his legs seize up. He could fell his mind shut down and a wave of heat rushing through his chest. He stared down at his hand as he unconsciously released his grip on his pistol, leaving it to fall to the floor with an impact he couldn't hear.

And then he fell.

He couldn't fell himself hitting the ground, but he knew he had. A cloud came over his eyes and his head felt very heavy. His eyes were getting droopy, closing on their own self-preservation instinct.

The last thing he saw was three heavily armored men standing over him with blaster rifles aimed right at his head.

And then he knew no more.

* * *

 ** _"The Crisis of Ansonian Intelligence" by Patrick Whitakker_**

 **Excerpt from Chapter 2: " _The Ansion Intelligence Services"; Pages 35-40_**

 _Ansion Intelligence was highly regarded as one of the most professional capable in the galaxy and certainly in the outer rim. Their professionalism, institutional power, and bureaucratic efficiency had allowed Ansion to prosper for many centuries and allowed them to successfully navigate regional conflicts._

 _There were three agencies that made up the bulk of Ansion Intelligence. The National Intelligence Agency (NIA) handled strictly espionage and surveillance for civilian and foreign matters. The Military Cyber Command (MCC) handled all military related intelligence matters and cybersecurity as well as cyber warfare. Finally, the Internal Security Bureau (ISB) was in charge of conducting special government investigations, dealing with matters of executive criminality, and protecting the integrity of the government's various institutions._

 _Apart from the commonly acknowledged "big three", there were other offices and units attached to other government departments. These included the Office of the Secret Service, the Federal Communications Security Office, and the Trade and Transactions Surveillance Office, along with many others._

 _The Intelligence Community as a whole compromised 22 different agencies, bureaus, and offices. They were all overseen by the Director of Ansion Intelligence, a post appointed by the President and confirmed by the Senate._

 _These agencies had been put into place in 215 BC during the constitutional crisis under President Johana Iliad. The crisis had been born from the gross abuse of power by the President who used it to spy on and surveil members of her opposing political party._

 _Eventually, President Iliad's own party, the National Conservative Coalition, had turned on their leader due to planewide protests and revolts. Iliad had been impeached and removed from office, and the Ansonian Congress had passed numerous legislation to better structure the executive branch of the government._

 _The Intelligence Community had been made strictly independent of the Office of the President It was to be managed by the executive, not directed by it. For that they created the equally independent position of Director of Intelligence, who had many powers over the community that the President did not. These were meant to prevent any usurpation of the government's intelligence powers by a single person._

 _The attempted coup d'etat of 177 BC marked a reversal in the independent nature of the intelligence services. A cabal of business executives and elitist politicians had taken the radical action of declaring the new President of the Ansion People's Party, Careos Ranon, illegitimate. They had used their money and influence to ferment dissent and subversion within the government itself with the objective of overthrowing the anti-business President._

 _While the coup was unsuccessful, it caused widespread panic and fears around the planet. While Ansion did have a complex and difficult political system, it had been proud to be fully democratic ever since 982 BC. It was widely agreed that subversive actions such as those during the attempted coup d'etat posed a greater threat to Ansion than any one President, no matter how controversial._

 _Many powers stripped of the President in Iliad's tenure were reinstated to the executive with the goal of strengthening the authority of the office. From then on after, the primary mission of the Intelligence Community was the persevere the authority of all branches of the Ansonian government from threats both foreign and domestic,_

 _For the next century and a half, the powers of the Intelligence Services would continue to grow. Further development in technology and surveillance techniques allowed Ansion to stay ahead of all of its regional partners in the defense and security business. While countless decrees passed by the Republic Senate limited the defense forces planets were allowed to maintained, they never did pass any regulations on surveillance and intelligence powers._

 _With limitations imposed on its armed forces yet with widening regional commitments to security and trade, Ansion turned to intelligence over military. While other rich planets such as Duro, Ossus, and Bestine had squandered much of their wealth by funneling it into the elite upper class, Ansion had tread on a different path. Year after year, millions and millions of credits were poured into the intelligence services. The Senate Appropriations Responsibility Committee kept its eyes fixed on the purse strings, making sure ever credit was spent to the best of its ability. With the expansions to the services, they maintained their rule of protocol and law over the growing limps of the community._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello all! Hope you enjoy this latest update.**

 **In this chapter we explore more dynamics of the story and introduce some new characters. Clearly, this story will most certainly not be the constant victory of Alastair Hughes. He will face many challenges and not always be able to conquer them.**

 **If you have any questions, feel free to ask and I will be as quick as I can in getting back to you. General questions that are important to the story I will be putting in the** _ **General Questions**_ **part below this.**

 **Finally, favorites, follows, and reviews always make my day and motivate me to write more.**

 **See you next time,**

 **Greysider**

* * *

 **General Questions:**

 _How close is this story going to following the Clone Wars_ cannon: Pretty closely. There will be many chapters that are full of cannon content and others that mention it heavily. Until the end of the clone wars, the story will follow along with most major plot points and events.

 _Is Hughes a secret Sith Lord_ : Normally I would refuse to answer this one because of the sensitivity of it to the story but I'll make an exception. No, he is not.

 _When are cannon characters going to appear in Shifting Fates:_ I can't tell you definitively, but fairly soon. Maybe in another few chapters. There I'll of course be many references to them throughout the coming ones, but not full on appearances.


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